


Matt & Nat

by sinivalkoista



Series: Matt & Nat [1]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Coffee Shops, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Marriage Proposal, POV Natasha Romanov, Romance, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinivalkoista/pseuds/sinivalkoista
Summary: When Natasha enters the coffee shop, she is plain, simple Natasha instead of the Black Widow, Natalie Rushman, or any of the twelve other identities she has for herself.Sitting at one of the corner tables, Matt is waiting for her.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Natasha Romanov, Matt Murdock/Natasha Romanov
Series: Matt & Nat [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098407
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	Matt & Nat

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen any of the MCU TV shows or movies, so I apologize if I get any aspect wrong!

When Natasha enters the coffee shop, she is plain, simple Natasha instead of the Black Widow, Natalie Rushman, or any of the twelve other identities she has for herself.

Sitting at one of the corner tables, Matt is waiting for her, and Natasha allows herself a brief smile. She doesn’t often meet up with Matt like this, out in the daylight instead of in darkness on the rooftops, but she permits herself the treat every once in a while. In the middle of a coffee shop packed with people hoping for a late afternoon jump, she looks like just another girl from Hell’s Kitchen. 

As she steps into line to order her drink, Matt tilts his head slightly but gives no other indication that he is aware of her presence (even though they both know he is). His white cane is folded up, but instead of being discarded in the seat next to him like usual, he’s clutching and fiddling with it in his hands.

To herself, Nat frowns. 

It’s unlike the man without fear to be nervous. On a bad day, he is as stoic as a British soldier, so something must be bothering him. Narrowing her eyes, Nat takes stock of the rest of the patrons. A gaggle of college students giggling over their phones rather than focusing on their laptops, the papers, or the textbooks laid out in front of them. A businessman in a suit, speaking harshly into a bluetooth earpiece and typing furiously away at his laptop, his coffee completely ignored and completely cold. A couple about to faceplant into their drinks and pastries if they lean across their table any farther.

As far as she can tell, no threats.

As she shuffles forward in line, pretending to mess with her phone for a minute, Natasha inspects Matt. A light yellow bruise decorates the side of his jaw, and his sunglasses look as though they’re hiding a black eye, but aside from that, no other  _ visible  _ injuries (there was the one time that Matt tried to patrol with her with three cracked -  _ not  _ bruised - ribs, and it took her three blocks to force a confession from him because he is so blasted good than the average person at hiding when he is hurt).

His own drink is sitting on the table, untouched but still hot because steam wafts up from the top of the cup. The table is clean, orderly, except for a braille newspaper and-

A speck of silver.

Natasha almost forgets to move forward in line, but she manages to keep her heart at its average around sixty beats per minute. Although he’ll try to block it out, she knows he’s listening to the rhythms of everyone around him.

It’s a ring.

Natasha prided herself on not needing anyone. She could fend for herself, and she  _ had  _ fended for herself for as long as she could remember. That's what she likes about Matt. Even though he’s blind, he (mostly) takes care of himself. He doesn’t need Natasha to hang around to protect him because he’s capable of looking over his own shoulder and patching up himself. She doesn’t need to babysit him like Clint, and he also recognizes that Natasha can disappear for six months without a word, and that’s all right, too.

“What can I get for you today?” the barista asks her in a voice as sugary sweet as the drink Natasha rattles off.

As the other girl prepares it, Natasha returns to the ring sitting on the table.

Matt knows her. He knows that she loves roaming as much as he loves Hell’s Kitchen. That she once told him she did whatever she wanted, that she’s got a past as stained as red as the Devil’s horns. Natasha is both free and tied down at the same time.

Matt knows this.

And yet he’s still asking.

She knows he left the ring on the table there for a reason, not hidden in a box in his pocket to be pulled out at the perfect romantic moment. It’s slightly off to the side, next to a container of napkins, as though he’s giving her a choice. Whenever she accepts her drink from the barista, she can walk over there and pretend it doesn’t exist, and he will never mention it again.

Matt will take the rejection. For some strange reason, he won’t fight abandonment like he fights the lowlifes of Hell’s Kitchen.

Matt knows her. Although they’re vastly different, they’re also alike in so many ways. Both of them are trained to fight, both of them have a sliver of the devil inside their hearts that tugs to be let loose sometimes. Their circles of life orbit differently, but at the core, they’re both doing what they think is right, and no obstacle is going to stop them from achieving it.

Matt isn’t asking to own her.

Matt is offering to give her a steady element in her life of chaos, a place where she can retreat and nobody knows. Matt is untainted by the world Natasha works in. To them, he’s nobody. A blind lawyer fighting for the little guy at most. He is saying he has her back, that for everything they are, he’ll always love her.

Natasha is selfish for wanting his love, for desiring to have this little secret.

She pays for the coffee she isn’t going to drink and approaches the table.

Slightly, Matt stiffens, and he sets his cane to the side. “Nat,” he greets her.

“Matt,” she replies. She sets the drink down. As she sits opposite him, she casually picks up the ring from the tabletop and slides it onto her finger. “I don’t cook and clean,” she tells him seriously.

With one corner of his mouth, Matt smiles. Although his glasses are covering his face, the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Well, you haven’t had pancakes until I’ve made them.”

“Is that so?” Natash purrs, raising an eyebrow even though he can’t detect the tiny action. “You’ll have to show me. After we make a trip to your priest, of course.”

The ring will come off later. Natasha can’t afford to let the outside world know she has an attachment to someone. It’ll be carefully stored away like her memory of today, in a place where no one can find it. But for the moment, she is happier than Natasha Romanoff has been in a long while.

Matt ducks his head, the smile on his face increasing.

Matt and Nat.

It has a nice ring to Natasha’s ears. 


End file.
